


If Not This One, Maybe The Next.

by sixnumbers



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Middle School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-10 10:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2020911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixnumbers/pseuds/sixnumbers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of Sam/Steve AU drabbles that have very varied AUs. Some are longer than others...sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Kids (Middle School!AU)

**Author's Note:**

> what am i dooooinnngggggg
> 
> I had this sudden urge to just...write a lot of AUs because I LOVE AUs SO MUCH buuut. I usually don't flesh them out well enough. The drabbles (some are too long to really be considered one, but oh well) are all varying AUs. The title of the chapters will be different and describe what the AU is anyway.
> 
> yay writing mania~!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam Wilson's a well-liked [by other students] kid in school. Steve Rogers just moves to his town.

The bell rings, and Sam's just made it in the door. He's a little late for homeroom, but that was alright. Mr. Phillips closes the door right after.

“Good afternoon, sir.”

“See you're just scraping in by your teeth, Mr. Wilson.” Mr. Phillips chuckles.

“I got caught behind some slow walkers.”

“It's alright, I ain't gonna write you up for just making it by the bell. Find a seat.”

The class is still clammoring about, and Sam notices a new face. His stomach does a backflip at the small, sullen, pale boy. His clothes are baggy, wearing a t-shirt and flannel and ripped up jeans. They weren't ripped on purpose, Sam notices from the dirt stains. He's not sure why he felt so...weird. He only gets that way when he sees Leila.

Mr. Phillips claps his hands and clears his throat.

“Everyone settle down!”

And kids quickly get in their seats, stop throwing paper balls, and Sam follows suit. Mr. Phillips is so strict that only newbies try and get out of line. And Mr. Phillips is one of the few teachers who's actually kind to him in this stupid school.

The only seat left is by the new kid. He takes his eyes away from the window and looks at Sam, almost in awe, before focusing his eyes back at his drawing.

“Everyone. We got a new kid in the class today.” Mr. Phillips turns in the direction of Sam and the new kid, pointing more at the scrawnier boy. “Steven, wanna come up here?”

The boy looks up, unsure, and sets down his pencil. He looks over at Sam before standing up. He's tiny, can't be more than five feet, and his clothes look even larger when he gets up. He walks, unsteadily, to the front of the room.

“Class. This is our new student, Steven Rogers.”

“Hey, guys.” His voice wavers, almost hoarse.

The class murmurs some “Hey”s and some “Hi, Steve”s. Sam says “Hello”, and smiles at the boy. Steve scans the crowd and smiles back.

“Alright, you can go take a seat.”

Steve shuffled back to his desk, while Mr. Phillips went on to talk about what to expect this school year . But Sam barely noticed, watching Steve walk back to his desk, trying to keep his shoulders unhunched. They share another look at each other, and Steve smiles at Sam.

The feeling came back.


	2. Out in the West (Western!AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve Rogers, ex-deputy, meets a mysterious cowboy named Sam Wilson.

Steve stares at the fire, lost in how it danced over and over again. Yeah, he's set up fires before, but this one got him somehow. Maybe because it was so damn _cold_ tonight.

 

There's a crunch in the grass behind him, and Steve goes for his revolver, standing straight up. He squints, pointing his gun in the general direction.

“If you ain't gonna be dinner, might wanna show your face.”

“You eat people?”

“No,” Steve drawls, “but I sure don't appreciate 'em sneakin' up on me.”

The stranger emerges from the shadows, armed with a pistol. He's a few inches shorter than Steve, but definitely a little stockier. He's wearing blue jeans and a shirt that's seen better days. His skin is dark enough to blend in with the shadows if there wasn't light from the fire. His facial hair is scraggly. Steve wonders if he's a cowboy, fugitive, or runaway.

“Sorry, fella.”

Steve doesn't move. “You sniff out my fire?”

“Didn't wanna cause trouble, but it looked pretty enticing.”

Steve and the stranger point their guns at one another, not budging.

“It's a cold night. Tryna not freeze to death. I'll put my pistol away if you do.”

“Deal”, Steve agreed.

They both, slowly, put their pistols back in their holsters. Sam crossed his arms, and looked at the fire directly.

“How'd you even get one of those going?”

“Always keep some dry scraps with me in my bag. Saddlebags keep the twigs dry. Gotta be prepared out here.”

The stranger looks Steve up and down, as if trying to figure out what other weapons he had.

“Gonna tell me your name, fella?”

“Samuel Wilson.”

“Evenin, Sam. I'm Steve Rogers.”

The other man tilts his head, face scrunched in thought. A realization hits him, and his eyes go wide.

“Heard that name before”, Sam says, nodding. “You're the one that took down that Schmitt gang, right?”

“One in the same”, he adds morosely. “Lost my best friend to them. They dragged him away in the middle of the night, and I don't know if he's alive or dead. Couldn't let them go when they rolled into my town. Now at least they're dead.”

“I apologize. Didn't know James Barnes was a friend of yours.”

“Like a brother”, he adds.

“Lost one of mine, too. I understand how you feel.”

The two men stand in silence, hands in pockets.

“Why don't you sit down and get a better look at this fire, Sam? You gotta be cold.”

Sam cracked a smile, wide and big, and made space for himself on the log Steve was calling his.


	3. Here for You (Music Stars!AU with crooner!Steve and R&BFem!Sam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samantha Wilson, R&B [and rap, if you're pressing] star, is being nurtured under the wing of James Rhodes, accomplished jazz/R&B fusion artist. When he brings Steve Rogers, a man best known for re-recording things made famous by the Rat Pack, there's an unexpected connection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "So", you're thinking. "Who's your headcanon for fem!Sam?" And it's definitely not any that people have made popular. I still imagine Samantha fit, kinda thick. Honestly, Kelly Rowland (circa 2008, maybe?) would work, but I'm also imagining Estelle (the British singer, voice of Garnet in Steven Universe). Especially when Sam swears. But...just imagine Estelle with like, a New York accent instead of a Brit one.
> 
> If you're wondering how I'm imagining Chris Evans here, when he was on Letterman served a lot of inspiration. Oh, and that one gif of him talking to Vanity Fair. yeah.
> 
> also note i know nothing about music recording so I skip a lot. :3

Samantha Wilson is recording something with someone today, apparently. Rhodey liked surprises. Which was fine by her, if this surprise wasn't pushed back for months at a time. It's not like she wasn't doing well. Her second album, _Big Shot_ , went platinum. The label had always had Rhodey, an accomplished jazz and r&b artist in his own right, on her. They were expecting magic for the second time on the last album. What they got was a lot of delays while Rhodey quietly handled his husband's stint in rehab. Once the album dropped, it was like Alka-Seltzer in water. Boards blew up, Twitter blew up, and she went on a short tour to major cities coast to coast. She was glad the label heads weren't pressing too hard.

As she walks in, she feels vaguely nervous. It's not like she hasn't been in the booth recently. She put two free songs out online, using her boy Reilly's in-home studio. The surmounting buzz led to way more gossip blog posts about her than she'd like. "Are Reilly and Falconette dating?" "Who's Falconette's mystery man?" Ugh.

Sam opens the door to the studio room and finds Rhodey already there, flipping through his phone. She notes his baby blue suit, and wearing the glasses he doesn't really need. Rhodey looked up and smiled.

“Hey, sweetheart”, Rhodey says, getting up to wrap her in a hug. Sam gives him peck on the cheek.

“Hey Rhodey. What's good?”

“Same old, same old. I've got a friend of mine I want you to meet.”

“Are you still trying to do that crossover shit with me?” Sam tries not to be testy, but after the label tried to set her up Bruce Banner, a almost-folk singer and sometimes electro house producer, she wasn't taken to the idea. Not that Big Green wasn't a nice guy. Just wasn't her style. Rhodey is busy propping open the door until they get started, and Sam guesses it's for their guest.

“No, no. I wouldn't do that to my girl.” Rhodey turned around, managing to get the door to stick. “It's within your range. And I got someone _different._ ”

“What d'you mean, 'different'?” Rhodey was already going back to the soundboard, popping open his suitcase. Rhodey was full of ideas, some better than others.

There was a tentative knock on the door and she turned, expecting the worse. The figure in the door was tall, pale, with perfectly coiffed hair. He smiles, leaning on the door frame, and Sam can't notice how well dressed he is. He's wearing a Tom Ford suit, she knows that for sure. Nice smile, nice teeth, she liked that. He was cute...for a white guy who probably burns in the sunlight like Dracula.

“Who the hell's this guy”, she says, looking at Rhodey.

The guy clears his throat, stands up straight, flattens his suit.

“Steve Rogers.”

“He's a crooner,” Rhodey adds with a smirk. Steve strides over as if he owned the room. Sam thinks he literally might.

“Ah. Really?” Sam sticks her hand out. “Samantha Wilson. Falconette. Can't say I'm the world's biggest Sinatra fan.”

“Which is why he's _here_ ”, Rhodey interjects before Steve does. Steve intently shakes Sam's hand while looking in her eyes. He had pretty ones, she had to admit.

“He's working on an album of original material and wanted you to record with him.”

“Yeah,” Steve adds, Samantha noticing he's holding back a Brooklyn accent,“and I've heard you sing. Know you don't do it much, but I like it. I think it works.” Steve lets the handshake drop, and Sam puts the hand on her hip.

“You like it, huh?”

Steve smirks, and looks down at his shoes, as if the right answer lied on the floor. Samantha follows his gaze, notices the crocodile shoes.

“Sharp.”

Steve looks back up, and he smiles a wry smile, and seems to blush a little.

“Thanks.”

Rhodey cleared his throat, looking impatient.

“Now, what's this song called, again?” He's busy shuffling papers, getting two stacks together.

“ _Here for You_.”

“Sounds like a classic”, Rhodey says with some sarcasm.

“It's different than you think”, Steve chimes in, brow screwed up.

Rhodey raises his eyebrows at Steve, skeptical, and hands the sheet music to Sam.

“It's been a while since I've seen you, and I won't let our time together go to waste." Sam says, almost deapan. She skips down a little. "Let me take you in my arms, no better time, no better place. You've been home, waiting for me. And now I'm home, here for you.”

“Those are my lines", Steve adds.

Sam smirked. “I know. Just wanted to hear 'em for myself. It's not treading new ground, but in your line of work, people won't enjoy it if it isn't 'safe and accessible'. You write this?”

“Yeah." A serious blush was starting to creep across his cheeks. "I wrote seven out of the ten on the album.”

“Not bad, not bad." Sam nods, looking over the music more. "You get some help with the notes here?”

“A little. I'm a little rustier than I thought.”

Sam's acutely aware that Rhodey is watching them banter, only pretending to adjust the soundboard.

“If you wanna give it another shot, you should have asked earlier. My college major was songwriting.”

Steve smiles warmly. “It was last minute. I...wrote this song a few weeks ago. You were my first choice--especially when I read about your background. I wanted a fresh voice on the album. One my fans wouldn't know outside of their kids' rooms.”

“Well, then”, and Sam grins, “You definitely picked the freshest.”

“You two done flirting?” Rhodey turns back to them from the board. “We got the booth for another hour and a half.”

Steve's face turns a little redder, and Sam just giggles, and the two enter the booth. Sam adjusts her headphones, and Steve shuffles his papers. There's some adjustments needed to have Steve's mic at the right height, and Sam definitely notices his eyes darting toward her. She's just making sure she's got her sheets in order, and her hair's not trapped under her headphones.

“You wanna practice, babe?” Rhodey's voice comes in on her headphones.

“No, no. I'm good.”

Steve smirks, adjusting his tie to be looser, undoes a few buttons. Sam notices the peek of chest hair and tries not to wreck her lipstick by biting. Why was she all worked up over this guy? He looked like a statue come to life. Kinda weird. Kinda hot.

“Alright. Backing track coming up. I'll signal when y'all start.”

Sam nodded, and looked over at Steve. Who was already looking over at her.

She'd usually pass him of as 'thirsty', but that would imply desperation. He's not desperate. He's attentive, appreciative, but only takes what he gets.

The music itself is a typical string arraignment, and Steve breathes in, and starts to sing. _Why_ did Rhodey surprise her with this? His voice sends her ears prickling, spine tingling, and heart racing. She was around sexy voices all the time, but his was different. He was getting her all flushed and shit. Stupid cute guy.

Steve finishes his part, and looks over at her, still smirking. Does he ever stop smiling? She looks back at Rhodey, calming herself with deep breaths. A few moments go by, and Rhodey's signaling her to start.

“ _You've been on the road, darlin', and I know you gotta de-stress._ ”

She can almost _feel_ Steve's stupid grin.

“ _And it's not the same without you_ ”, and Sam inflects in a needy way, “ _Been_ _ **so**_ _depressed._ ”

Rhodey is nodding with his headphones, smile just visible on his lips.

“ _I know you've missed me, baby. I just can't wait. Picked out a brand new outfit, you betta not be late_.”

Samantha turns to Steve, and they share a look. Sam's pretty sure hers came off a little too horny.

“ _You've been gone, baby, far away from me. And now I'm home and waitin', waitin' here for you_.”

Steve is about to drool on the floor. Sam smiles softly, moving her papers to the chorus.

“ _We've got all night_ ”, they sing together. “ _Don't wanna lose you again. Been thinking for so long, don't want this night to ever end._ ”

And Sam swings on the last two words, making sure to just over-flourish on top of Steve's vocal. She looks up at Rhodey, who's still intently listening, giving Sam an ' _you are ridiculous_ ' look. It was _his_ idea. Who knew they'd have sparks?

Rhodey probably did. Asshole.

-

Rhodey urges for another two takes before he considers the song done. Sam's a little tired, switching to the flats she had in her bag. She's a lot shorter without three inches, but at least she wasn't tiny to start. She's been sipping water while they walk out to the parking lot, glad the paps didn't figure out where they were recording.

“Alright, kids. I gotta get going. Tony's gonna be worried if I don't show up for his Friday Breakfast for Dinner.”

Rhodey hugs Sam, kissing her on the cheek. “Get some tea, get home okay, and we'll talk later once I fix”, he points to the bag he carries, “these up.” He lets go and reaches out, meeting's Steve's hands to shake.

“I'll see you in a few months, right?”

“Absolutely. You know I'm here whenever you wanna get back on the recording horse.”

"Of course. G'night, be safe, all that."

Rhodey chuckled, patting Steve's shoulder before he let go to walk back to his convertible.

“So”, Steve hummed. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Drinking hot tea and painting my nails.”

No reason to be dishonest. Her face isn't smirking, which was a step.

“Well, could I possibly join you for the 'hot tea' portion?”

Ooooh. That's how it is?

“I homebrew it”, she says matter-of-factly. She's smirking now, she knows, and sips more of her water to hide it.

“Oh?” And Steve turns to face her, smiling down at her with hands in his pockets. “What's your favorite?”

“Black tea with ginger”, she says. “A little honey, a lot of lemon.”

Steve nods, still smiling. Sam notices he's kept a good distance to not feel overbearing. “I'm a Irish Breakfast kind of guy.”

“Oh? I got a bunch in the mail.”

Steve's face flashes briefly from panic to excitement.

“Maybe you can help me drink it.” Sam takes a long sip from her water bottle, knowing that came out way more suggestive than she'd like. But the tea was real. She should have never asked for that subscription last Christmas.

Steve smiles easy, tilting his head in amusement.

“Yeah," he says, softly. “I can try.”


	4. Coming Out (internet friends!AU, modern day)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve Rogers, known 'sjw' that goes under the username of AvgAmerican. Sam Wilson, lesser known user TheFalcon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was hard to keep this one down, especially after my last chapter. This one actually has my beloved skinny!Steve being a internet tough guy. Or internet sweet pea. Depends on who you ask.

_hey!_

The message was sent over an hour ago. Steve knew that he was away, but he was usually back by now. It was stupid to worry about someone so far away. Well, if he pushed, DC wasn't that far away. It would be a long train ride, but wasn't completely impossible. But Sam didn't wanna meet yet.

It had been a week since they first started talking on a video game forum. While some people were shitting on him about wanting more Black characters, Steve (of course) came in and told everyone to shut the fuck up. The thread was neatly closed up after more back and forth with Steve and some asshole named _RedPillBluePill_ , which Steve thought said enough about what kind of idiot he was. Sam, username _TheFalcon,_ messaged a thank you note. “It's whatever”, Steve responded. “I don't stand or support bullshit like that on forums.”

“You're one of the few, it seems”, Sam sends back.

Steve knew why _he_ was putting off meeting Sam. Once Sam sent his photo, Steve's heart skipped a beat. The photo was Sam taking a selfie with the Lincoln Memorial in the background. His smile is warm, joking, obviously aware of how ridiculous he looks. Steve laughed, commented “great pic!”, and pretended that he didn't want to kiss Sam's lips. Steve sent his usual photo, a picture taken at his desk from his laptop. He looks neutral, which is why it's the one he sends to friends. He also looks less small, less like a frail 26 year old with asthma and a crooked spine. He has other photos, better meant for other purposes.

“keepin it simple?”, Sam asked. “I try”, Steve sent back.

Steve falls in love with him almost instantly afterward. The next time they speak, a day later, it seems so natural. They talk, for too long, about Sam's life. He grew up in Harlem, before gentrification really hit. He's an writer, first and foremost. Steve reads the links Sam sends. He's in the DC metro area for college, political science major, and his internship for the LGBT lobby is one he loves but hates. Loves for the information he gets to be nosy about. Hates because it's a lobby.

Steve talks at length about himself. He's chronically ill, glad to live in the now where his biggest issue is his screwed up spine. He goes to art school, hoping he gets an illustration gig. He lives in Brooklyn, right now, and it's his home borough, too. He best identifies as 'queer', if someone pressed him to answer. Sam better identifies as bisexual, which is fine by him.

If Steve wanted to be honest, he'd explain all about his mom dying while he was little, being stuck in foster care whenever he didn't end up at the group home.

He might also not tell Sam, for a while, about James Buchanan Barnes, who he's been stuck to like glue since middle school. And that, at times, Bucky was 'friend', 'boyfriend', and 'husband-to-be'.

He'd also maybe explain that two years after ending their engagement, he's still living with the guy. Sometimes they have sex.

That would take a lot of explaining.

**Hey! Sorry I missed you. Still there?**

The chirp of his messenger startles Steve, but he smiles.

_Yeahyeah. What's up?_

Another time, he'd tell him. Maybe when they finally meet. When Sam finally sees the true him and maybe, still wants to see him. Still wants to take the frail body he has in his arms, to kiss his neck and make him shiver.

DC's not that far away.

 

 

 


	5. Pulling Punches (boxerfem!Steve/trainer!Sam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephanie Rogers, a tough and semi-arrogant newbie boxer. Sam Wilson is her new personal trainer. bonus: Peggy! Sif! oh and if you squint, Bucky Barnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Who should I imagine for fem!Steve?" Uhh...Gwendolyn Christie? Katee Sackhoff circa BSG? I just want you to think of a tall, buff powerhouse who Sam totally trips over (because he admires Sif a lot).
> 
> I wanted to include Peggy because I love Peggy, and I can't have fem!Steve without some Peggy. Bucky Barnes is the 'big kid', if you weren't able to tell. Headcanon for those two: platonic bff who everyone thinks are gonna date. But they're like "gross you're like a sibling never".
> 
> Steph's bisexual if you didn't notice. She and Sif have an...interesting history.

The opening riffs of _Who Are You_ echo through the kitchen. Steph's partially glad she left her ringer on, as she was just wondering where she had set down her phone. It was apparently her gym, Fury Fitness, calling. She reluctantly picks up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Stephanie?”

This voice wasn't familiar.

“This is she.”

“Hey, um—This is Sam, from Fury Fitness.”

“Hi, Sam.”

Sam? She doesn't know Sam. She put in her earpiece and went to work figuring out what to make for dinner.

“I was checking your records and saw you hadn't finished your personal training sessions.”

“Yeah,” Steph said without hesitation, “Sif's taking a break from training. She doesn't know how long, and I didn't really wanna jump in with anyone else.”

She opens up her spice cabinet and sets down some Italian spice mixture she bought at Marshall's. Did she want Italian spiced chicken? Well, she was fresh out of Adobo, so it would have to do.

“Why's that?” 

“I'm picky about who I spar with, I guess. I don't like to pull punches.”

“Have you thought about the other trainers?”

She knew the founder, Nick, was a big-time boxer in the area in the past. But given he's been officially 'retired' since 2004, she didn't think that would be possible. Clint didn't box, and was more of a weightlifter. Pietro was more endurance, especially given that he was so fast. Margaret, or 'Peggy' as she liked, was more dedicated to yoga and dance. And Brock? Well, Brock was an asshole and talking to him was a chore. So there was that. 

“To some degree, yes.”

“Hm. Well-- I called because I actually just started up here. Sif suggested I call some of her clients, since she'd be out. Your name came up in our conversation and I thought I'd try to contact you.”

“How thoughtful,” she said, opening the fridge to  dig for tomatoes out of the crisper.

Sam chuckled.

“I box and kickbox, so I don't think you'd have to hold back. And Sif told me you just had your first bout a week or so ago?”

Steph hums approvingly as she pulls out the baby spinach and her fresh chicken thighs.

“Sure did.”

“How'd that go?”

Steph smiled, opening a cabinet to set out her cutting boards. “I won. Knockout in the third round.”

“Nice,” Sam says, smile evident in his voice. “So, champ, when do you wanna come in?”

"Depends," she says with a shrug. "You available tomorrow?”

\---------

After Steph gets changed, she heads to the trainer bar.

“Alright”, Peggy says, her soft British lilt already making her breathing calm. “I've got you all checked in. Just need you to sign this”, and she pushes a tiny reciept to Stephanie, just showing she's using a training session today.

Steph signs quickly, and Peggy puts it back into an envelope next to the keyboard.

“Why didn't you just train with me?”

Stephanie raises her eyebrows, not expecting any sort of questions from Peggy. “You don't box, Peg.”

“Don't you wanna try something new?" Peggy crossed her arms in front of her. "Getting involved in yoga or dance can always benefit you in the long run. Keep your joints loose, muscles flexible, it's low impact-”

Steph strokes her chin, looking at Peggy with mild skeptism.

“What's with that look? You don't believe me?”

“Oh, no, I do." Steph grins. "I'll consider it next time.”

“We can use the whole studio whenever you feel ready.”

“Thanks”, and Steph's almost sure Peggy's smile twitches with glee.

“Sam will be with you in a sec. He needed to talk to Clint about something.”

"Yeah, sure.”

Peggy walks away, looking back briefly. Steph looks at her as she leaves, smiling softly. She was very cute, Steph conceded. But her heart was still hung up on Sif, at least woman-wise.

When Peggy finally walks into the dance studio, Steph surveys the gym. There's a few faces she recognizes, but the man talking to Clint toward the back isn't one of them. He's stocky, short cropped hair and dark skin. So, this is Sam? Sam turns back to the trainer bar and notices Stephanie. He taps Clint on the chest, says his goodbyes, and walks toward her. The black trainer shirt he wears is doing all sorts of favors for him.

“Stephanie?”

Steph extends her hand and shakes Sam's already outstretched one. “Just call me Steph. Good to meet you.”

“Likewise. I think you're Sif's favorite client."

Steph laughs. “I dunno about that. Some of her other girls are badass in their own right.”

"Well, she talks about you plenty. I just assumed."

Sam smiles, and Steph likes it, from the way his goatee frames it to the slight gap in his teeth.

“Let's get warmed up", Sam asks, and Step nods.

Sam takes her over to an open studio in the gym, and hands her a jump rope.

“Fifty jumps. And I mean by the rope hitting the floor, not how many you do period. Ready?”

Steph chuckles. “Absolutely.”

She starts jumping, doing double time because it's the one she finds works best. She smiles, as she's totally used to doing this by now. Sif pushed her to 100 once, and _then_ it felt hard.

She decides to start crossing ropes around jump twenty, mouth turning into a massive grin.

“It _is_ a warm-up”, Sam chimes in.

“Yeah, and I'm getting warmed up.” She starts jumping on one foot. “Definitely.”

Sam crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, but ends up breaking into a smile, too. Stephanie does nothing but smile back and Sam's laugh is just as cute as the rest of him. She finishes the last ten on both feet, before stopping and dropping the rope unceremoniously on the floor. She's not broken a sweat yet, lungs a little firey, but thinks she's got time.

“How you feelin?”

“Good.”

“Great.”

Steph stretches out her arms, almost assured that Sam's appreciating the view.

“So, Steph, where are you from?”

“Brooklyn. If that doesn't already show.”

“Picked up a little of that. I'm a Harlem guy.”

“Yeah?” Steph wipes her brow. “It's changed a lot lately. Had a friend in middle school who lived on 149th.”

“I was closer to The Bronx, honestly. Surprised you're familiar with the area.”

“Yeah”, she says with a shrug, “I liked sitting on the train and just getting places. Know it wasn't the safest thing in the world when you're 12 and weigh eighty pounds soaking wet. I hung out with bigger kids, anyway, so I was never really at risk. ”

Sam tilts his head, confused. “You used to be that small?”

“Mom got me to a new doctor, figured out what the hell was keeping me so sick. Once they fixed that, body started to repair itself. Took me until I was 17 to get here. I still got a few issues, too, so it ain't a total miracle.”

Sam takes a short look up and down her. “I don't see any of those.”

Steph laughs a little loudly. Was that a come-on?

“You wouldn't. All internal stuff.” She chugs down half her water bottle and wipes her mouth with the back of her palm. Sam doesn't flinch. She likes that.

He nods, accepting her statement. “Alright, then. You ready to get on a punching bag?”

“Yeah. Haven't been on one in a while.”

She smiles again and thinks her and Sam will get along alright. Better than 'alright', if she plays her cards right.  


	6. Lonesome (vampire!AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve, a soldier turned against his will. Sam, wild child who was turned during experimentation-gone-wrong. Both meet, thirty-two years ago, and have yet to part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what compelled me to write this. Both men are a little scarred from watching their loved ones die or leave them due to their vampirism. I think I have a load of headcanons about this, but I'd be hard pressed to organize them well here.

The sun is finally setting and Steve sits, awaiting his husband's waking. The last rays were still leaking through the heavy curtains, dimly lighting the otherwise dark room. There's a groggy groan that comes from Sam's coffin before he slowly opens it.

Sam turns on his side and smiles. “Hey, good lookin'.”

Steve smirks, getting up to kiss his groggy boyfriend. “Hey, honey. We should get some food.”

“What are we doing for food now?” Sam sits up, stretches his arms. “I think the butcher's onto us. That was the last one in the area.” Sam sighs, annoyed.

“Well, we can't keep begging Natalia to steal blood supply. She's got a really good gig at the hospital, someone's gonna catch on.”

“We haven't drank from anyone in years.”

“And I rather not drink from anyone. That's the past. The me I don't wish to return to.”

Steve digs his toes into the wood floor, looking down at his bare feet.

“We could find someone who will let us drink from them", Sam chimes.

“You mean find a _new_ Natalia?”

“No, no, she stays. We were making her sick, so now we get the blood bag supply from our favorite nurse. It would take a while for us to find another person, anyway, and you know how Talia is about newcomers.”

They both sat in silence, Sam sighing and shifting uneasily while Steve's eyes drifted away, idling on the floor again, before he perked back up.

“I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

“We could go after criminals.”

Sam groans.

“We are _not_ going all vigilante justice vampires on people, Steve.”

“We used to.”

Sam shakes his head. “What good can we do now? We're monsters. We have to hide from the sun and you _promised_ me we wouldn't kill.”

“Yes, thirty years ago. You told me 'I don't want to be a killer.' And you never were. And never will be”, and Steve strokes Sam's face lovingly. Sam looks down, pursing his lips together in frustration.

“You were a man of your word.”

“And I still am.” Steve smiles innocently. “And I have a plan.”

Sam looks at Steve skeptically. “That quickly? What is it?”

“I'll tell you soon. Look, we can spend our centuries together trying to fix _something_. Maybe it is wrong---.

“Baby--”

Steve shakes his head. “I'm sorry.”

“It's alright to get a little distressed. But I'll let you know again and again, there's no way you're dying without me coming along. I don't want a century alone.”

Steve relaxes, sighing. “Because I tell you all about mine?”

Sam leans forward to kiss Steve, who responds by pulling him close, fingers digging into his shoulders. The two breathe deeply before they separate, eyeing each other with predatory interest.

“It's been a few months since we drank from our Natalia. Maybe...we should try again?”

Sam smirks, extending his arm to gesture for Steve's help up. Once Sam's out of the coffin, they kiss again gently, Steve holding him close.

“Text her and see when she'll be home."

Sam nods, turning to get his phone when Steve holds him back.

"It can wait," Steve moans. "I have other plans for us now."

Sam kisses him again, grinning. "A regular tactical mastermind."

 


	7. Blue Line (tourist/local!AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve meets Sam, a guy from Chicago. They talk pizza, obviously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually a meme I did on tumblr! I love/lived in Chicago and thought to do an AU about that.

"What’s your favorite pizza place?"

Sam laughed. “Depends. Deep dish or thin crust?”

It was an accident that Steve took advantage of the stop over in Chicago. He had a flight booked for tomorrow, bright and early at 8am. Well, not that early, he guessed. But the 6am was just too early, and he wanted to drag his feet before he dealt with O’Hare foot traffic.

And he had met Sam, a guy who was coming back home on the Blue Line who he helped carry his bag down the steps. The escalator down was still broken, and Sam was the unlucky case of a suitcase and a midsized duffle.

So of course he had struck up conversation. Steve had a layover in the city before, from NYC to LA in Chicago, but didn’t get a chance to get out the airport. He had managed to get some Chicago-made chocolate and try Goose Island on tap at their in-airport bar, so it wasn’t all bad.

Neither was Sam, if he was being honest.

"Deep dish, of course."

The train had just gotten past Harlem, which looked strangely, well, suburban, for being such a busy stop. It was weird, all the open space he was seeing. Was this still part of the city?

"Okay", Sam smirked. "Gino’s East has a great sauce, hands down. But the butter crust? Ain’t as great as they make it seem. Giordano’s can be a little soggy, which some people  _love,_  but I’ll never get it. I’m a Lou Malnati’s man, honestly.”

"Yeah?"

"Mmmhm. Unless you mean non-tourist traps?" A flash of mischief appeared in Sam’s eyes, and Steve wanted more of it. "Then you might wanna swing for Peaquod’s. It’s on Ashland, but far north. Where are you staying?"

"The JW Marriot."

" _Alright_ ", he said with a joke on his voice. "Downtown, then. Take the Ashland bus to Webster, and take a right if you’re facing north."

Steve strangely understood the directions immediately.

"And is it gonna knock me over with how good it is?"

"It better. And get there soon. It’s almost 3, so you gotta get a move on."

Steve chuckled. “I still need to drop off my stuff.”

The train had emptied significantly at Jefferson Park, which was a surprise to Steve. Sam seemed unphased.

"Train’s another 45 minutes to downtown." Sam’s eyes flickered with something again. "Maybe we should go together? It will be easier for two people."

Steve beamed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Yeah. That sounds like a good plan.” He put his hands back in his lap. “You wanna drop your stuff off at my hotel?”

Sam laughed so hard he snorted. “Well, I guess I am getting dinner at some point. So, sure, why not?”


	8. Moving On (android!Steve AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam Wilson is enlisted in a (not very active) military in a far more peaceful future. STEVE is possibly the world's biggest impulse buy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANDROID AUS MY HEART. nothing i love more, honestly.

“I can’t believe you did it, Wilson.”

Sam grimaced in Natasha’s direction, twirling the crowbar between his fingers. She had disapproved of his purchase for strictly real reasons. 'Now all my matchmaking will be useless', she hemmed. But he he was, though packed neatly in a wooden crate. He felt like he was opening some great archaeological find.

“He was on sale…”

Natasha chuckled.

“Oh, he was 14,000 cred instead of 16,000?”

“No. It was actually 12000. Don’t need a car anyway,” he says with a joking tone. He sold his last one when he moved into New York. Who needs a car when there's so many buses and trains, not to mention the ongoing work on teleportation.

“That’s a deal”, she said with a nod. “How old is he?”

“He’s just two years old. Weird, huh? He wasn't defective or used.”

Sam bent down and set to pry open the wooden box with a crowbar. It took a few pulls, given that it was holding an android heavier than he was. Once he got the top off, he quickly dug through all of the air-wrap to admire his new purchase. And admire was definitely something he was gonna be doing for a while.

“Whoa,” Natasha muttered, peering over his shoulder. “Never seen one inactive.”

STEVE, as he was designated, came out of the box wearing very little. A tasteful pair of dark colored boxers, and a white t-shirt that seemed far too tight. Sam stroked the skin of the inanimate machine, which was slightly cold. The texture was almost right, soft but having the tell-tale feel of silicone. Absentmindedly, Sam’s hand stroked up to STEVE’s jaw, stroking his soft lips, and hummed in curiosity.

He was beautiful.

“A real work of art. Very Roman statue.”

“Yeah,” Sam breathed.

Natasha said nothing, but stepped back and put her hands in her pockets.

“Can’t say I’m _not_ jealous. But...he works for you. God knows the guys I set you up with would never deal with your schedule.”

Sam stood up, dusted himself off, and nodded.

“Military takes me all over the place. And please, don't make me feel guilty about not getting a 'real man'.”

“Won't you miss it?”

Sam shook his head. After Reilly, he didn't think he could even want some other human filling the space in his bed. It's an uncomfortable space in his head that he doesn't want someone to fill.

A touch on his shoulder brought him back to the present. Natasha smiled up at him softly and squeezes his shoulder.

“You don't have to explain.”

Sam wrapped her into a hug, chuckling softly.

“You're a good friend. Best friend, even.”

“I'd hope so. Now, how about we decide on what we're drinking today?”

_______________

After Sam and Natasha had finished their weekly coffee date, Sam attempted to turn STEVE on. The immobile android was far heavier than he looked, pushing somewhere between 200 pounds He thought it was just the box. He decided against dragging him to the living room and sets up his laptop in the kitchen. It's a little uncomfortable on the floor, but he didn't care much if he wasn't gonna be there for too long.

The guidebook, which had arrived via email a week earlier, noted that STEVE’s proper ports were hidden behind a panel on his lower back. Sam bent up STEVE’s torso and pinched around the skin, exposing a weak point where a snap panel was connected. There were a few different connection points, but the guide assured Sam all he needed was a USB cord to open STEVE’s setup.

Sam connected the two machines and waited for the proper prompts. The android was still not moving, but Sam could hear and feel the whirring under his skin. It made the cold disappear, and the warmth became uniform over his skin. A tingle went across his arms, and he had to refocus on the set up.

___________

Setting up STEVE is mildly embarrassing. He's asked what sort of tasks he wants STEVE to do, and he felt kind of...wrong...selecting sexual things, while he could also pick 'childcare', computer programming', or 'musical proficiency'. It didn't help he also picked things like 'cleaning' and 'romance', which sounded so vague he was worried he had made things worse.

He had finished and the guide prompted him to turn STEVE on, check for any errors in what your selections were. He's worried about turning him off again, given how fragile android brains still were, especially two years ago.

STEVE’s power button was on an unusual place on his head. Just behind his ear, but under his well groomed hair. It's a place only someone trustworthy would want to touch, and likely not to be hit on accident. The guidebook said to press until you hear a noise, “much like a low hum”. What kind of hum?, Sam questioned.

Sam found the button easily, and felt ridiculous pressing the button, sitting at an odd angle. Until he heard a distinctly male voice humming, which startled him slightly.

Sam moved his hand away and watched as STEVE’s eyes eased open, his chest moved and his fingers wiggled. He adjusted himself to sit upright, and _smiled_.

Sam wanted to kiss him right there.

“Hello, Sam.”

“Hi, Steve.”

STEVE eased out of the box slowly. He first sat up, then shifted onto his knees, before standing and stepping out. Sam watched as he sat on the floor, struck by the smooth movements and gentleness.

“Would you like help up, Sam?”

STEVE extended a hand out and Sam took it, Steve easing him up as if he was lifting a child. Sam looked over STEVE again, and admired his full frame. He was very sculpted, all his cords and bands hidden well and shaped into muscle. STEVE felt safe, and Sam suddenly felt bold enough to pull him down into a kiss.

And it should feel weird, _unnatural_ , but his mouth is moist, lips are soft and warm. He puts aside spending the credits and suddenly decided it was worth it.

 


End file.
